Sal's Hat
by Very Small Prophet
Summary: "Really, Godric! Using your ratty old hat to Sort our students? Here, use my yarmulke. It's much more elegant." Okay, so Salazar would have said "kippa," not "yarmulke," but who cares except us Ravenclaws? AU Sorting of various characters.
1. Tricksters, Not Heroes

**Chapter 1: Tricksters, not Heroes**

_What if…the Sorting Hat had originally been Salazar's kippa, not Godric's wizard hat? An AU tale of a subtler Sorter._

* * *

Fred ran confidently to the front of the Great Hall and sat on the stool with a bounce. Unlike many first-years, he had no worries about which House he'd be in: Gryffindor, just like his father had been, and his two eldest brothers, whom he idolized. He grinned at the assembled student body as the Hat settled onto his head, sliding slightly toward his left ear.

_Gryffindor, you say? I suppose it would work, but students with brains like yours are usually wasted there. Ravenclaw would be good, or better yet, Slytherin._

"What?! No!" he replied silently. "Weasleys are Gryffindors, all of us—"

_With all those secret schemes and plots in your head? You're a trickster, not a hero. Yes, Slytherin will do very well._

Fred was panicking now, his whole world turning upside-down. He and George had it all planned; Mum had already knitted them red and gold jumpers…

"No, you can't—I have to be— " To his mortal embarrassment, he felt as if he might cry at any moment, with everyone watching him. He wished the tiny round skullcap were big enough to come down over his eyes.

_You're sure? Really, your mind is wonderfully devious._

But Fred wasn't feeling devious at the moment. He wasn't thinking, couldn't think. "No, no…"

_All right, all right, I expect it won't hurt you too badly. Go on to—_

—GRYFFINDOR!

With a gasp of relief Fred whipped the Hat off his head and raced to the cheering Gryffindor table, forcing back the incipient tears. By the time he heard George's name being called he had managed to place a maniacal grin on his face and sat beside Charlie without obvious signs of panic.

George went to the stool with the same confidence as his twin, and the Hat greeted him with:

_So_, _would _you_ like to be the Slytherin twin, then?_

"Slytherin? What—no! They're dark, evil—"

_This again!_

George could almost hear the eye-roll and, despite his panic, some lurking part of his mind giggled at the thought of a hat with eyes.

_Slytherin is the House of practical intelligence, of subtlety, of tricks and stratagems—abilities that can be used for anything. Noble causes, dark causes, your own amusement… You and your twin do have quite the Slytherin sense of humor._

"Fred!" George's mind jumped back in, hats with eyes forgotten. "He's in Gryffindor. I can't be separated from Fred."

_Come now, telepathic twins are never truly separated._

"Telepathic…" George's racing thoughts came to a full stop. He and Fred were telepathic? They didn't finish each other's sentences _that_ often, did they?. His panic unexpectedly dissipated as ideas started churning through his mind.

_Think of all the jokes you two could play, working from two Houses._

"Yesss…" George breathed aloud, captivated with a vision of magnificent school-wide pranking.

_Right, then. Since you agree, we'll make it—_

"Wait, I didn't say—"

—SLYTHERIN!

The Hat came off. George stumbled toward the Slytherin table, but his eyes were turned toward the Gryffindors.

_What am I going to do?_ he thought. _I have to calm down. I have to think_. He sat at his House table, ignoring his new housemates. _I need to talk to Fred. We can work this out. The first thing we need to do is trade passwords and_…

The twins' eyes locked from across the Great Hall.

Fred finished the thought: …_and swap spare house ties_.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Anyone who wants to adopt the tale of Gryffindor!Fred and Slytherin!George is free to do so, as long as you agree with me that neither Salazar nor his House are intrinsically evil and bigoted, especially not when they're only eleven.

"Kippa" is the Ladino name of the skullcap otherwise known as a yarmulke. My version of Salazar Slytherin is not a native Englishman but a Sephardic Jew from northwestern Spain, originally from the real-life village of Salazar south of Santander.


	2. Parseltongue with a London Accent

**Chapter 2: Parseltongue with a London Accent**

_What if…the Sorting Hat had originally been Salazar's kippa, not Godric's wizard hat? An AU tale of a subtler Sorter._

* * *

Harry sat on the stool and peered out over the Hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Professor McGonagall quickly slapped the small round Hat on Harry's head; it slid forward until it almost touched his eyebrows. He waited.

_Hmmm, _said a voice in his head._ Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either, and a nice thirst to prove yourself. So where shall I put you?_

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, "Not Slytherin, not Slytherin"

_Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness._

Harry remembered Hagrid's words about all dark wizards coming from Slytherin…

The Hat answered his thought: _Many of them, but not all, and that's just in this century; a hundred years ago Dark wizards were mostly Hufflepuffs._

"But—"

_I don't follow students' orders, youngster. I'll put you where I think you fit, and I keep hearing Parseltongue._

Harry began to feel panicky. "But Mr Olivander said… I don't want to be great like him! Not like him!"

_Him?_ The Hat seemed to reconsider, listening more closely._ This is a more subtle matter than I thought._ _Yes, I think I know the sound of that particular Parselmouth. The London accent… Young Mr Riddle, it was. Move me back to the crown of your head where I belong. I need to get away from that scar_._ There's a good lad._

Harry put a hand up and adjusted the Hat. There was a ripple of laughter from the hall, and he felt his face turning red.

_Much better! I'm hearing _you_ now, without interference. Not Slytherin or Ravenclaw for you. Nothing wrong with your brains, but you think with your heart, not your head. That means the Lions or the Badgers. Courage enough for Gryffindor, no question about that. And more than enough loyalty for Hufflepuff; you're just looking for someone to give it to._

Harry remembered somebody (who was it?) saying Hufflepuffs were duffers.

_Not at all. Admirable virtues the Badgers have. Not flashy like the Lions, but solid: friendship, loyalty, hard work…_

Harry almost shuddered as a vivid memory of his never-ending chores for Aunt Petunia came to mind.

_Ah yes, that's rather spoiled any willingness you might have for hard work, hasn't it? Then I suppose it had better be –-_

–- GRYFFINDOR!

* * *

_Author's Note_: A few phrases and paragraphs adopted directly from JKR. I'm sure you all recognize them.


	3. As Good as All of Them? Better

**Chapter 3: As Good as All of Them? Better.**

_What if…the Sorting Hat had originally been Salazar's kippa, not Godric's wizard hat? An AU tale of a subtler Sorter._

* * *

As the Sorting Hat was set on her head Hermione thought over what she'd read about the four Houses. She'd be in Ravenclaw, of course.

_Not necessarily._

She started at the voice in her head. The Hat talked? "But I have perfect marks," she told it, "and I do special projects and independent studies, and I read all the time and…"

_You'll use that brain no matter where I Sort you. If I put you in Ravenclaw you'll never use anything else. And you work hard enough for a dozen Hufflepuffs. You don't need encouragement with that, either. Gryffindor? That might work. The courage is there. It's buried deep, but Gryffindor could bring it out…_

Hermione followed the Hat's musings with only part of her mind. What if she didn't fit anywhere? What if she didn't belong here at all?

No, she _did_ belong! She'd read the books; she'd already learned a dozen spells; she could perform them perfectly. Those stuck-up girls on the train were just wrong—the ones who said she wasn't a real witch because her parents were muggles. She'd be as good a witch as any of them no matter what it took.

_Needing to prove yourself? That's usual with muggleborns, but you want more than just fitting in, don't you? It can be hard for those raised in the muggle world, even for someone with your abilities. How much do you want that success, really? What will you do for it?_

Something seemed to be poking at her mind. Hermione felt embarrassing memories float to the surface: Mr Grantham's science class, that idiot Laurie Sisson always cutting up in chemistry lab… All it took was a little something extra added to her experiment that one day…

_Sabotaging another student's potion to get her thrown out of class? Is_ that _your way of being best? That doesn't usually work for long._

"It wasn't so I could be best. I was already best! But she was always playing the fool, bothering people, making mistakes on purpose. _I_ wanted to learn, but she never took anything seriously, always messing about, being noisy…"

_And you knew she was on warning from the teacher. One more reckless joke and she'd be out of class for good. So you played the joke for her._

"She would have done it sooner or later." Hermione knew how weak that argument sounded. "It was for everyone's good. She didn't like the class, and no one else could learn properly. And that's what were all there for. To learn. That's what matters."

_Yes, you_ are_ willing to do just about anything if you consider the cause sufficiently important._

Hermione forced herself not to answer back. She was arguing morality with a hat, of all things! A hat she had to impress if she wanted to succeed in a school full of witches and wizards who already knew a hundred times more about magic than she did. She remembered the blonde girl with the turned-up nose, sneering at her, telling her she would fail.

No, she _would_ succeed, against all of them—all of them put together, just like at primary, where everyone called her a show-off because she didn't play stupid like other girls. Well, she wouldn't play stupid here, either.

_As good as all of them? No matter what it takes? _

"Not as good as. Better."

_Better? No question, then. It will take all your brains, hard work, and courage to manage it, but that sort of ambition and determination belong nowhere but…_

—SLYTHERIN!

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

In canon, Hermione is the member of the Golden Trio who is willing to be utterly ruthless when, in her opinion, the Greater Good calls for it. This is especially so when she deals with other females: Marietta Edgecombe cursed, Rita Skeeter blackmailed, Dolores Umbridge handed over to centaurs, her own parents brainwashed.

It is never stated that muggleborns cannot be Sorted into Slytherin House. There is ambiguity about the criteria for Slytherin: is ambition more important, or purity of blood? If it's ambition, a talented half-blood or muggleborn is more likely to have the necessary "fire in the belly" than a complacent pureblood used to having things handed to him.

Slytherin is as much the House of the brilliant, hard-driving Half-blood Prince as it is of arrogant Lucius Malfoy, born with a silver wand in his hand. Thus is could also be the House of the muggleborn swot who will do anything to succeed in her new world.


	4. Minion

**Chapter 4: Minion**

_What if…the Sorting Hat had originally been Salazar's kippa, not Godric's wizard hat? An AU tale of a subtler Sorter._

* * *

Gryffindor. Vince was in Gryffindor!

Gregory Goyle walked slowly up to the front of the Hall and took his place on the stool for his Sorting. He couldn't believe what had happened to his friend.

Yes, Vince sometimes did reckless things. He was always trying to cast spells he shouldn't. But that didn't make him a Gryffindor, did it? He and Vince were supposed to be in Slytherin with Draco.

The Sorting Hat settled onto his head.

_So, you've made up your mind because of your friend? Your friend who hasn't been Sorted yet?_

"Drake will be in Slytherin; his whole family is. But Vince and I have to be there with him. We have it all planned. Anyway, our dads were in Slytherin, too."

_Yes, Patrick Goyle was a clever one, though not as clever as he thought—Slytherins rarely are._

"I know I'm not as smart as Dad, but Slytherin's not like Ravenclaw. It's about being important, right? Draco's going to be important, and I need to be with him."

_Do you really care about being important? Your father wanted to be important but he didn't want to work for his success, so he latched onto Lucius Malfoy's coattails. Now he's told you to do the same with your friend, hasn't he?_

"It's not about what Dad wants—it's about Drake!" Greg was starting to get angry. The Hat just did not understand about Draco. Sure, he was smart—he could think circles round him and Vince both—but he needed looking after.

That was Greg's job—looking after Draco when he got _too_ clever. "It's always been the three of us together—me and Drake and Vince. But you put Vince in Gryffindor! How could you do that?"

The mental voice lost its sharp tone, and was almost gentle:_ It's my duty to Sort each student according to his own mind and heart_, _not according to the wishes of his family and friends. It can seem hard at first, but it's usually for the best._

Greg felt his throat choke up, and was horrified to hear himself sniffle. The Hat couldn't split them up like this.

"Maybe you can put me in Gryffindor, too—no, then Drake would be all alone. You _have_ to put me in Slytherin. Vince will be okay with the Gryffs—he can handle himself—but Drake needs someone to look out for him."

_He can still have you both. What could be safer for a too-clever Serpent or Raven than having both a Lion and a Badger watching over him?_

"Badger?"

_Of course. Such a faithful friend as you can belong only in—_

— HUFFLEPUFF!

* * *

Author's Notes:

Crabbe should probably be a Hufflepuff as well, but I wanted to break up the set, and invoking Fiendfyre without being able to control it was certainly reckless. The Sorting Hat expects Gryffindor House to help Crabbe develop that reckless courage into something steadier.

We know Goyle Senior and Crabbe Senior physically resembled their sons in being large and heavy, but canon says nothing about their intelligence or lack of it.

This is the last chapter I have pre-written for this story. I would like a do a chapter on Dumbledore, but it's hard to find the right "voice" for eleven-year-old Albus, child of Victorian Britain and far too gifted for his own good.


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